And a thousand voices rose on high,
As its gliding form flew swiftly by;
Each bright and beautiful thing of earth
Awoke to hail its heavenly birth.
Sweet beam, said I, oh! how I’d love,
Like thee, the bright green earth to rove;
To shine o’er the hearts of pale despair
And kindle a glow of rapture there.
Just then, a darkling cloud flew by,
And shadowed the face of the azure sky;